Training Daze
by The Mocking J
Summary: Layton and Emmy get busy at the gym.


**[[**_**Been a while since I wrote some Layton/Emmy stuff... It's not that it isn't my OTP anymore, I'm just struggling for what to write about this pair lately. Leave me Layton/Emmy prompts for oneshots if you have any! Anyway... **_**Zillabean**_**'s birthday is coming up and she's always produced loads of great Layton/Emmy art. So I dedicate this sorta-romantic fic to her! **_

**Spoilers: **_**None.**_

**Set: Presumably **_**during prequel trilogy.**_**]]**

* * *

**Training Daze**

"Do you smell it, Professor?" Emmy inhaled deeply through her nose. "That's the stench of blood, sweat and tears in the air. But mostly sweat."

Layton also took a whiff of the gym, wrinkling his nostrils. "I can tell... You mentioned you come here quite often?"

"Usually every day after I've finished work with you. But sometimes I prefer going for a jog..."

_My word— it's no wonder she's in such top form!_ Layton thought. Of course, being a gentleman entailed he shouldn't comment on a lady's physique, even as a compliment. Instead he suggested hopefully, "Wouldn't you prefer to go for a pleasant jog now...?"

Emmy shook her head, shooting him a knowing smirk. "There's no way you're getting out of this one, Hershel Layton. Our agreement still stands."

Ah yes, their so-called 'agreement' (he really hadn't been given much choice in the matter). During their latest adventure the professor had been devoid of a sword, a metal pipe or a similar weapon, rendering him almost unable to defend himself or Luke when an enraged enemy attacked. Thankfully Emmy had swooped in to save the pair of them with her martial arts skills. From that moment Layton's assistant had decided that he required hand-to-hand combat training for future protection in case she wasn't around. (Luke had wanted to join them, but he was a bit young for the gym.)

Layton followed Emmy as she flashed her membership card to a receptionist at the front desk and signed him up. On their way through the gym they were unsurprised to see Inspector Grosky tearing up a treadmill. So engrossed was Grosky in his extreme workout that he didn't even wave at them.

After spending several minutes in the changing rooms, Layton and Emmy emerged into a hall containing mats and punch bags. Emmy—wearing a yellow tank top and white shorts– raised an eyebrow when she saw Layton. As she'd insisted, he was clad in a T-shirt, tracksuit bottoms (sadly she couldn't coax him into shorts) and sneakers. However, he'd even retained his classic top hat.

"Are you sure you want to keep your hat on?" Emmy checked.

"Oh? I suppose you're right..." Layton couldn't bear to see his hat damaged, so he removed it to place it on a bench.

"There we go," Emmy smiled seeing his dishevelled chestnut coloured hair.

Layton looked around, wondering, "Do you know when our instructor will be arriving?"

"She should be ready..." Emmy walked to the edge of one of the mats, gesturing for him to do the same and face her. "...Right about _now_. Let's begin my eager student."

He would be fighting..._Emmy? _Layton blinked at her. "Surely you can't be serious..."

"Of course I am. You need to learn how to fight, and I'm the best fighter you know!"

"B-but I couldn't live with myself if I ended up injuring a _lady_—"

"No offence, Professor but gender is irrelevant here. You won't stand a chance against me." Emmy shrugged. "Though I guess if it's too much trouble I could always get Grosky and we could show you how it's done..."

Layton was shocked by the image of his assistant grappling with Inspector Grosky. Not that the inspector was a particularly violent man, but he knew how to pack a punch. At least if Layton was Emmy's opponent he wouldn't have to hurt her, only fend off her attacks.

"No, it's alright," Layton dismissed. "I would be honoured to be your opponent."

Emmy grinned. "That's the spirit! So, first things first, we'll need to warm up..." She guided him through a series of breathing exercises and muscle stretches before making him jog on the mat.

"Now that's out of the way, let's try some shadow boxing." The professor glanced around as if he expected hidden enemies to jump out at him; Emmy laughed. "Relax! Shadow boxing is basically when you throw punches at the air, without an opponent. Just mimic what I do..." Layton watched for a minute as she demonstrated two punches, taking down an imaginary adversary. That didn't appear too dangerous. He copied her arm movements: Left, right, left, right, left, right...

"I think you've got the hang of that now. Let's see if you can dodge. _Ya!_"

Suddenly, Emmy's fist surged towards him. Layton gasped, barely managing to avoid her jab. "Emmy, please slow down!"

She gave him an impressed nod. "Well, you're already very evasive, obviously thanks to sword fighting. But what if Luke was behind you and I'd gone for him instead? You need to learn how to _block _attacks as well." She showed him several ways to deflect an incoming punch. (He recalled her using some of these techniques against thugs in the past.)

All in all, Layton found self defense lessons to be rather invigorating. But then came the hard part:

"Next, I want you to try to hit _me."_

Layton shook his head sternly. "You know I can't do that."

"Are we still worrying about the fact that I'm _female_?" Emmy rolled her eyes. "Pretend I'm Descole, then. I've just rendered you sword-less! Hurry, the only way to save yourself now is with your bare hands!"

"Or I could calmly propose a truce," Layton surrendered, walking over to the bench. "I think we've had quite enough training for one day–"

Before he could pick up his hat, Emmy darted to the bench and snatched it.

"Now see here, Emmy— return that immediately!"

"Sorry, Professor, if you ever want your hat back, you're going to have to fight me for it." She sauntered back to the mat, putting the hat on her head.

Layton was left with an extremely difficult decision: Leave the hat or fight the lady. Emmy knew how much his hat meant to him. She would never impair it, but days could go by until she returned it to him. The professor's only option was to retrieve his hat without hurting her.

"Very well," Layton agreed warily, joining his assistant on the mat once more.

Emmy waved her fingers in a taunting motion. "Come at me, Professor."

He charged, feigning a grab at her head. Emmy effortlessly ducked, but Layton instantly wrapped his arms around her waist. For all her sharp wits, Emmy hadn't expected that. (The professor wasn't one to engage in physical contact.) He pulled them both down onto the mat, rolling over so that he was above her and pinning her body down. Immobilized but unharmed.

Her hair splayed across the mat like a fan, Emmy stared up at him in wonder. "The old barrel roll... Didn't see that one coming." They were so close that their heavy breaths intermingled; their hearts beat as one.

"Even gentlemen have tricks up their sleeves," Layton replied, recovering the hat from her head. "I'll take that, thank you."

Emmy sat up as he did, stretching. "I'll concede defeat for now. But next time I won't go so easy on you."

"I have no doubts about that," Layton smiled.

* * *

**[[**_**Alt. Ending: They take a shower together ;D**_**]]**


End file.
